Not for the first time, Katie wondered what the hell she was doing in New York for all this. Every team needed a representative, but Michele was already doing a good job. Michele actually had a seat on the negotiating committee, which put her ahead of Katie and most of the team reps. Katie, by now, was convinced that she would only be needed if Michele suddenly choked on her dinner or something; otherwise she was just the first runner-up.

"Great. All the hassle, none of the rewards. I hate this job." She didn't even realize that she'd spoken aloud until the words bounced off the walls. "And I'm going crazy. Doesn't that just make it all better." She sat down on the bed with the draft of the agreement that Michele and the rest of the committee had been hammering out over the last couple of days; since Katie had come late to what passed for a party, she had missed the initial meet-and-greets. She didn't even know who else was there form the other teams, except of course for Sonja from the Comets, who had taken it upon herself to speak to the media and mention the word 'strike'. Katie was very tempted to whack her upside the head for that one- what did she have to go and say it for?

She heard noises outside her hotel room. It sounded like an argument. Those were always fun to listen in on, so Katie put her ear to the door. "Amy, run along now, I don't need you for this."

"What are you planning in there? Come on, this is supposed to be all business-"

"I said run along. I'll see you tonight after all the meetings and stuff. Don't you have somewhere else to be? Or do you really want to start with me?"

There was silence. Katie was disappointed. Then there was a knock on her door, and the disappointment melted into panic. She looked out the peephole, but whoever had knocked had managed to get out of sight. The panic rose higher as she opened the door just a crack to see who was out there.

The crack abruptly widened, and strong arms seized Katie about the waist. Normally this would have been a cue to scream, were Katie the screaming kind, but she recognized those arms and the person attached to them. "Jen, what are you doing here?" she asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Senior representative for the team formerly known as the Utah Starzz," Jen replied, taking Katie's warm welcome as an invitation to come into the room. "Still can't believe we're in San Antonio, but that's a chat for another time." The way her eyes swept Katie's form made it perfectly clear what she meant this time to be for.

Katie sighed. "Maybe a little later, Jen-Jen. Michele forwarded me a draft of the agreement she and the rest have been working on, and I'm supposed to read at least the disputed clauses before the end of the night."

Jen shrugged, dismissing the importance of what they were doing. "Sugar, Goody sent me a copy too, and it's gatherin' dust on my table. It's not that often we can get together 'thout havin' to worry 'bout playin' each other." She sat down next to Katie on the bed and put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder.

"Jen, if we don't get an agreement hammered out sometime soon, we're not going to have to worry about playing against each other in the States because we won't have a league. Didn't you hear? Stern issued a deadline, and if we can't get a CBA out before then, he's going to exercise his supreme control over the league. He's going to dissolve it if we don't make a deal. And we've already been through that, and I really don't feel like doing it again."

Jen's dark eyes turned flat. "You had nothin' to worry 'bout that time. The WNBA found you a job and a sweet contract right off the bat. Don't you dare bring up the ABL, not if you're goin' to compare it to the WNBA. The ABL was my baby, even 'fore you were." She withdrew her arm and moved slightly so that she was leaning against the headboard of the bed instead of Katie's shoulder.

Katie chose to ignore that. She scanned the pages in front of her, comparing what was offered to what they wanted. Finally, she threw the papers down and snapped, "This is bullshit. This is all bullshit. There's no way in hell we can accept these terms. I swear, the brass is just looking for an excuse to dissolve the league, and that pisses me off."

"Well, obviously," Jen drawled.

Katie shot a glare over her shoulder. "Not just because I'm part of the league- it's the way they're doing it. If they just said, 'Hey, we got what we wanted, and we found out that we can't make money, so up yours,' at least that would be direct and aboveboard. But I can't stand this sneaking around. If they want us gone, they should just say it. Not that I want the league to be gone, of course, I'm not looking forward to playing overseas, and I know you're not-"

"I wouldn't anyway," Jen said softly, so softly that Katie almost missed it.

"What?"

"I'm too old for this kind of bull and my knees are creakin' like a pair of rusty hinges. I've already been through one collapse- this would be too much. I'm tired of their games too, Katie. If this falls apart, I'm callin' it quits. I'm goin' to do the fitness camp full time. I can make it work, I know I can."

Katie wasn't quite sure what to say to that, since it seemed to be rather a conversation stopper. Then the right words occurred to her. putting aside the unworkable agreement, she slid next to Jen and whispered in answer, "Then I'd come with you. I could take care of the menial duties while you imparted your words of wisdom that got you these-"

Whatever else Katie had been about to say as she ran her hand along Jen's arm was abruptly cut off by one passionate kiss that brought both of them to a horizontal position. They rolled around the bed for a while, kissing the whole time. They were oblivious to the sound of the door opening and the angry footfalls of a very tall blonde woman who was in a foul temper. "Sons of bitches," she muttered under her breath. "Bastards, cheaters, Shylocks- oh, hell. You know, I should have known that was going to happen when I saw the roster for this little soiree."

Katie looked up at the sound of Michele's voice. To her credit, she didn't blush. "Yes, you should. I didn't finish reading the draft, but what I saw was impossible to take. If this is anything like what the final will be like, then goodbye WNBA, hello Italian league."

"You might be better off trying the WNBL. Kristi said none of the guards are as strong as you are, and your stroke could make you a lot of money down there."

"Italy's got better food," Jen pointed out, stretching casually. She could feel Michele's eyes on her, and enjoyed it as much as she could.

Katie reached over and whopped Jen upside the head. "You're my girlfriend, so don't show off your stuff to someone else's girlfriend. I thought they taught you Southern girls better than that."

"Well, if you two are finished... come to think of it, you could probably stick around, Jen. Katie and I need to talk business. Should I call Amy and Adrienne so they don't get pissy about you hearing something that they don't?"

"I wasn't here for business," Jen said.

"As was obvious by the passionate making out on the bed." Michele shook her head. "You do know that some hotels have surveillance cameras, right? You could have put your careers on the line there."

Jen snorted. "If y'all don't get us an agreement by whenever Stern said we needed one, we're not goin' to have careers and it won't matter if we strip off all our clothes and dance in the rain."

Katie squeaked. Both Jen and Michele looked at her in amusement. This time she blushed. "Gorp's right, much as I hate to say it. We do need to talk turkey. You going to stick around?"

"Never did like turkey, and if you're in here I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything. I'll see you tomorrow." Jen winked at Katie before leaving the room; when she left, she took with her the heady feeling of not having to think about what was at stake at these meetings that they could do nothing about. As Michele tok her copy of the draft out and pointed out the most egregious impossibilities, Katie felt a sick sense of dread settle into the pit of her stomach.